


Still We're Not Robots

by feverbeats



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 19:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverbeats/pseuds/feverbeats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slipping back into Victor's orbit never gives Reed the result he's looking for, but then it dawns on him what any good scientist would do in this situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still We're Not Robots

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nomad (nomadicwriter)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomadicwriter/gifts).



> Title from "Science vs. Romance" by Rilo Kiley.
> 
> Thank you for requesting this! It's pretty nearly the EXACT STORY I wanted to be writing, for yuletide or otherwise, and I'm really pleased I got a chance to do it. Your affection for Reed seems to have rubbed off on me a bit, too, which is hilarious and great. <3 Seriously, pretty excellent yuletide experience.

When Victor von Doom is at college, his world revolves around building the machine that will let him speak to his mother again. But his world also contains one or two frustrating satellites, the largest and most obtrusive of which is Reed Richards.

The start of the trouble is probably Victor's fault, although he can't imagine ever saying that to Reed. Just because he essentially told Reed to fuck off when Reed approached him on their first day doesn't Victor wanted Reed to room with someone _else_. Least of all Ben Grimm, who is wide and muscular and plays football.

There are, of course, more pressing concerns. Good grades so Victor can keep his scholarship; making progress on his machine; eating and sleeping at least enough to take care of the first two. Regardless, Reed never ceases to be a distraction. The level of pleasure Victor takes in being distracted varies wildly depending on the day.

In their first week of classes, Victor spends two out of three days distracted by Reed in their chemistry class. Reed is _smart_. Victor can't figure it out. On Thursday, it turns out they're in a theoretical physics class together, and by end of class, Victor begins to suspect that Reed might be a genius.

Nothing like Victor, of course. Victor is out of everyone's league.

But Victor has enough to worry about without thinking about Reed. The New York subway system is new and infuriating, enough so that he eventually vows not to venture off campus until he can understand it, which only makes him feel trapped. The people in the room next to him play music he's never heard of at two in the morning (when he's trying to work). People keep inviting him to parties.

So this is America. Victor doesn't like it.

After a month of building resentment toward the university, the country, and all their inhabitants, Victor decides to fix things. He's not going to waste his time at school being miserable whenever he's forced out of his room. So he tries to make contact.

The next day in physics lab, Victor leans away from his partner and into Reed Richards' space. "What are you working on?" he demands. "Because it looks _wrong_." He hasn't even glanced at Reed's experiment.

Reed's head snaps up. "What?" His forehead creases as he focuses on Victor. "Uh, no, I don't think so. We're fine. We're doing 5B." He holds up the lab workbook helpfully, in case Victor is stupid.

"Well—" Victor looks more closely at Reed's calculations. That's—smart. Not something Victor would have thought of. "Not very direct, but effective," he says, pointing his pencil at Reed's notebook.

Both of their lab partners look annoyed.

"Oh?" Reed looks lost. "Thank you." He laughs awkwardly. "It seems to be about the only thing I _can_ get right around here." He pushes his hair out of his eyes and doesn't quite look at Victor, which leads Victor to believe he may be talking about his rejected offer to room with Victor on their first day.

"I can understand that," Victor admits. "I'm having enough trouble with this New York business. I've never been anywhere like this before."

"Oh, yeah?" Reed says, only half smiling. "Neither have I. California. What about you?"

"Latveria." Victor has shifted his stool away from his partner, who is getting on with the experiment without him. Victor feels as though there's something about this situation that should be worrying him more than it is, but he ignores it.

"I haven't actually heard of it," Reed says carefully, as if he's probably heard of most things.

Victor laughs unkindly. "I'm not surprised. No one here knows anything about my country." He pauses. "Or my people. I suppose I look enough like one of you." He shouldn't be making small talk about the things that have been expanding worries in his mind since he got here, and certainly not with this arrogant little scientist from California.

"Your people?" Reed asks. His elbow is very near to Victor's, Victor realizes.

Victor hesitates. He's learned quickly not to actually bring this up, which makes him want to bring it up more. "Romani," he says.

"I don't—"

"No one does," Victor snaps. "Try _Gypsy._ "

Reed opens his mouth and then shuts it politely. "Ah, okay. Sorry. I've never met a Gypsy before, no matter how many colleges I've been to."

 _If you'd been to so many, you'd think you'd be better at it,_ Victor thinks. Instead, he says without thinking, "How did you afford _that_? I have a scholarship and I still have enough loans just from ESU." Never mind that his plan involves becoming fabulously wealthy eventually.

Reed blinks. "You have _loans_?" Then he blushes and stammers, "Wait, I didn't mean—"

But it's too late. Victor is seething.

"I _see_ ," he snaps, pushing himself away from the table hard enough to rattle his partner's equipment. The teacher looks over at them, but Victor doesn't care. He's going to stay well away from Reed Richards from now on.

*

Three months into his second semester at ESU, Ben finally drags Reed to a party.

It's apparently because Reed "needs to get out more" and has failed to "mesh" with Ben's football buddies in any other setting. Reed has tried pointing out that he can't work on his experiments if he's "getting out," but Ben never seems that impressed. If Victor had agreed to be Reed's roommate . . . But Victor hasn't spoken to him in months, outside of violently disagreeing with him in class, even on points Reed is pretty sure they both know he's right about.

"Hey, Richards!"

Reed barely has time to shield his face from the beer bottle that comes flying at him across the crowded suite living room. It bounces off his shoulder and crashes to the floor. The boy who threw it makes a disgusted noise and turns away.

Reed looks around a little frantically for Ben. When he finds him, though, he despairs. Ben is chatting with one of the cute blondes Reed is pretty sure came with someone else. Girls flock to Ben for some reason; Reed suspects it's because he's _nice_. Ben rarely ends up with a girlfriend, except for occasional brief stints, but at least he can talk to women. Reed usually ends up explaining gravitational pull as they walk away.

Reed glances at the beer seeping into the rug and wonders if getting drunk is a good idea. The idea of not being in control has always unnerved him a little, but for once, going back to his room alone sounds actually more depressing than staying here.

After he's had three beers in quick succession, the room is spinning too much for him to stand up without looking like an idiot, anyway. Ben has stopped talking to the blonde and is now talking to the quarterback and throwing occasional glances over at Reed. He motions to Reed once, but Reed just shakes his head. He isn't going to make a semi-drunken fool of himself in front of Ben's other friends.

"You look miserable."

Reed turns. " _Victor_. You have no idea how glad I am to see you."

Victor's face twists and Reed wishes he hadn't said anything.

"Sorry," he corrects himself, not quite sure why.

"If you're going to sound desperate . . ." Victor's words are a little slurred. He's holding a ESU mug with something that smells more like rubbing alcohol than beer in it.

"I'm not desperate," Reed says quickly. His face feels hot. Why does Victor always make him feel so _stupid?_ It's not as though Victor is smarter, or even better at dealing with people. "Why are you here, anyway? You can't be _friends_ with these people."

Someone across the room is doing a keg stand while everyone cheers. Reed isn't even sure how he knows what a keg stand _is_.

"Well, no," Victor admits, swirling the liquid in his glass as though it's something more expensive than it undoubtedly is. "But I was frustrated with my work. I thought a change of scene . . ."

"I'm sorry," Reed says quickly, before he forgets or Victor gets angry about something. "About this fall, I mean. I said some really stupid stuff, and I get that now." He gets _some_ of it, anyway, and he really wants to keep being Victor's friend.

Victor laughs bitterly. "Oh, are you? How helpful." But he drops his hand to Reed's knee companionably.

Ben is always very physical, throwing an arm around Reed's shoulder at the slightest provocation, and Reed hasn't worked out how to react to it yet. But Victor's hand on Reed's leg is a different sort of touch entirely.

"Huh," Reed says under his breath. His first impulse is to look around the room, but no one is paying attention to them. Reed's been half thinking about things like this for months, but never looking at them full-on. He still doesn't intend to.

Victor makes a noise of annoyance and moves his hand, just at the moment Reed turns his body toward Victor's.

They stare at each other for a second. Then Victor, by far the braver of the two, says, "There's an empty bedroom down the hall. Mine, I mean. My roommate's at his girlfriend's dorm for the weekend."

"I don't—" Reed starts, getting dizzily to his feet. Victor's hand is on his forearm now. Reed doesn't know what he meant to say.

He doesn't really remember the steps they take to make it to Victor's room, but he thinks later that's more panic than drunkenness. They pause outside the door, and Victor says, "Wait."

Reed makes a questioning sound, half relieved and half disappointed.

"Stupid," Victor mutters. "My room is—not suitable."

Only Victor could talk like that while drunk out if his mind. Well, Victor and Reed.

"Okay," Reed says. He feels too hot and as if his sweater is the stupidest possible thing for anyone to wear. "Okay?"

Victor snorts derisively but doesn't let go of Reed's arm. Reed's sweater is pushed up just enough that their skin is touching.

"Never mind," Victor says, "Where's yours?"

Reed is sober enough to be a little hurt that Victor doesn't even know which dorm he lives in. "If you'd agreed to be my roommate—" he starts, unwisely.

"Go to hell," Victor says. Then he stops and says, "Ha," although Reed hasn't said anything funny.

Reed clears his throat and steadies himself against Victor. "Right next door. And Ben's at the party. So. Uh."

Victor raises his eyebrows, but the effect is ruined by the way he lists to one side. "Come on, then."

The short, cold trip between the two dorms should jolt Reed to his senses, but instead he finds himself holding his breath in terror that the moment will be lost. He almost slips on a patch of ice in his haste. Victor doesn't catch him.

When they get to Reed's room, Victor eyes Ben's posters of football players with disdain. They would have been good roommates, Reed thinks sadly.

Then he stops thinking, because Victor pushes him onto the bed and kisses him awkwardly.

Reed hadn't even been quite sure that's what was going to happen, and now that it is, he doesn't know how to react. He can't do something like this. But he's drunk, so of course it doesn't count. He can't think with Victor's mouth on him. Victor's hand, pressed against Reed's hip, is shaking.

After a few moments of heated fumbling (Victor's hand is under Reed's sweater now), Reed rolls on top of Victor. His heart is pounding.

"Oh, no," Victor pants. "This is so stupid." He shifts a little under Reed.

"God," Reed agrees. "We have to stop. I have to—This is so wrong." He half tumbles off Victor and rolls to his feet. "I, I have to _go_."

Before Victor can say anything else, Reed is out the door. He half sprints down the hall to the bathroom, takes a forty-five minute shower, and doesn't go back to his room until he's certain Victor will have left.

*

It's nearly the end of the spring semester before Victor talks to Reed again. He's put the winter incident from his mind as firmly as he can, something that's been made easier by Reed doing the same. He chalks it up to stress over finals, stress over his experiment, and alcohol.

That spring, though, they're paired up on a final project in their chemistry class.

"Oh, God," Reed says, as soon as they sit down together in the student center lounge.

So apparently they're acknowledging the problem after all.

" _No,_ " Victor snaps. "Chemistry. Focus."

Reed goes quiet, looking confused. Then he says, "Of course."

They do shockingly well. Despite disagreeing on a few minor points, it turns out the general concepts they're working with line up fairly well, or better than they tend to in physics class. It's almost enjoyable.

Then, after about an hour, it starts to get dark outside and most of the other students file out in the direction of dinner. Victor reaches for his bag and accidentally touches Reed's hand. He jerks back as if he's been burned.

"Oh—" Reed says.

"Look, we've got to—" Victor tries, frustrated.

"We were drunk," Reed says in a rush.

It's a peace offering. An excuse. Victor hates excuses.

"Not that drunk," he says.

"You have to understand," Reed says twitchily. "The context I'm coming from—"

Victor wants to shake him. " _I have no context for this,_ " he snarls.

Reed frowns and starts to say something, but he glances at Victor's face again and stops. "In Latveria—"

No one is getting out a complete sentence today. "I don't know!" Victor shouts, standing up. The few remaining students in the lounge are staring at them, and Victor's pride wars with his desire for privacy. "I never _asked_ what they would think," he hisses, leaning in close enough to scare Reed. "It never occurred to me until I met you."

Reed still has that frown on his face, the same expression he has when he's trying to balance an equation and it won't work. Victor realizes he's not getting through. His rage is boiling over and all Reed can do is sit there calculating.

"You don't know how humans work," Victor says viciously, and he turns on his heel before he can see Reed not be hurt by it.

Victor avoids Reed for a week, during which time he finishes their project on his own. It's reading period, so they don't have class, which makes it easier. Victor almost wishes he had an excuse to be somewhere other than his room or the library, though. His room, which his roommate moved out of two months ago, is becoming increasingly difficult for him to spend time in. (That only means his project is succeeding, though.)

On the last day of the semester, Victor can't stand it anymore. His head is pounding and he hasn't slept well in a week, but he'll be damned if he's going to apologize. He hasn't done anything he's sorry for.

But he wants to get his hands on Reed.

He winds up at Reed's door, hoping Reed isn't out taking a test or—or doing whatever else he does. Victor knocks, feeling self-conscious for once in his life.

Ben Grimm opens the door.

"Ugh," Victor says without thinking.

"Ah, great," Ben says, closing the door before he has it all the way open. "Reed's best buddy. Go somewhere else, pal. He ain't here."

Victor makes a mental list of all the things he hates about Ben. It takes a moment, so it may look as though he's not leaving. But he is. He frowns. Unless.

"I'm not here for Reed," he says. "I want to talk to you."

Ben laughs. "Uh huh. Well, he'll probably be back in a half hour. I thought you guys were on the outs again. Don't worry, he's taking a final, not out making someone else his best girl."

"Wait," Victor says, putting his foot in the door before Ben can close it again. "Stop talking about us like we're a couple. Why are you doing that? We're not even _friends_."

Ben snorts. "Do you want advice, or what?"

"I—" Victor says. Then he stops.

Ben stares at him. Then he says, "Oh." He grudgingly opens the door wider. "Ah, jeez. Okay, I get it. I guess you should come on in."

Victor is baffled, which he can happily say happens very rarely. "Thank you." He steps inside and is immediately glad, again, he decided not to room with Reed. Apart from having no space for Victor's machine, this room—or at least Reed's half—is entirely too tidy, even more so than last time he was here. There is something wrong with Reed, Victor decides. _Again_.

"So?" Ben is actually tapping his foot as he watches Victor expectantly.

Victor sits uncomfortably on the edge of Ben's bed. He doesn't really want to touch the other bed. "What has he told you?"

Ben shrugs. "Nothin'. He's Reed. All I can get out of him is science and more science. So I know he thinks you're good at that. And I may be dumb, but I know you two snuck off at that thing in December. And I know about your big blowout in the student center, 'cause everyone does."

"None of which adds up to anything," Victor says, defensive only because he hates being transparent. What if the whole campus knows? He hasn't even been in this country a year and he already knows how bad that would be for both of them.

Ben holds up his hands. "Hey, I'm not saying it means . . . anything. I'm just saying, you know? Not like some of the rest of us haven't been there."

Victor thinks about that for a second. "With Reed?" he asks sharply.

Ben shrugs. "With anyone. But that ain't the point. Point is, I think he's wasting his time with you. And he's the best friend I've got, but I think you're wasting your time, too." He shrugs again, guiltily. "I just don't want to see this turn into the big mess it's headed toward."

Victor considers. Ben probably isn't wrong, but he _hates_ being told what to do. "Mm," he says. "I'll consider it. Thank you." He stands up and lets himself out before Ben can protest.

At least he'll have the summer to consider matters.

*

Next fall, Reed has nearly managed to put Victor from his mind. That is, until they end up in another class together. It shouldn't be a shock, really. They're headed toward the same major, and they have overlapping areas of special interest, although their methods and approaches usually diverge. Reed catches a glimpse of Victor out of the corner of his eye and his breath catches, which is clearly just a physical response to a stressor.

Reed tells himself that for a month.

At the beginning of October, one of Victor's projects is featured in a high-profile science magazine Reed's been featured in before (and at a much younger age). He can't tell how he feels about it. Not jealous, although that would at least be normal. Not impressed, because he disagrees with some of the theory behind it. Mostly just fascinated.

"Look," Ben tells him over dinner, stabbing the air with his fork. "You have to get it together. You gonna put that thing down and eat, or are we gonna have another conversation?"

Reed quickly puts down the magazine. He really doesn't want to have another conversation. The first one, last winter, mostly consisted of Ben asking Reed what he did last night and suggesting that whatever it was, it had probably been a mistake.

Reed wonders if hormones are responsible for people making the same mistakes over and over. It would be a reason, at least. A better reason, Reed realizes, is that it's important to repeat the same experiment over and over to be assured that the results will be the same. Slipping back into Victor's orbit never gives Reed the result he's looking for, but then it dawns on him what any good scientist would do in this situation. Naturally. He should have thought of it before. If you simply alter the formula—

"I have an idea," Reed says.

"Oh, no," Ben says.

That night, Reed waits outside Victor's room for him to come back. He has a night class, Reed knows, because he requested to be in a different lab section than Reed, and his meets after dinner.

Reed's hands are shaking. His stuffs them in the pockets of his jeans and tries not to ask himself what he's doing here. He doesn't understand Victor, not any better than he understands anyone else, so he has no hypothesis in regard to how this will come out.

When Victor arrives, he looks tense. When he notices Reed outside his door, he looks downright furious.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demands. "This is _my room_."

"I didn't go _in_ ," Reed says, disappointed that he's gotten off to such a bad start. "I just wanted to talk to you. I think we got off on the wrong foot."

"For a _year_?" Victor says icily. "No, I just don't like you. And I don't think you like me. Now, if you don't mind—"

He tries to push past Reed.

Reed doesn't let him.

"Wait!" he says doggedly. He isn't sure why this matters so much. He's not even sure it does. "Victor, listen, I just think we need to test—We tried doing, uh, that thing we did, right? And that didn't—It didn't go well."

"You sound like you're talking about something other than some drunken fumbling," Victor says, but he's blushing.

"Right," Reed says quickly, "but that's my point. We need to try something else. I—I was wondering if, since you were so, uh, annoyed that I didn't want to admit to—I don't know if that's what you were annoyed about, actually, but—"

" _What are you asking me?_ Victor spits.

"Do you want to date me?" Reed makes himself say very slowly and calmly.

Victor stares at him. "Um," he says after a moment. "No?"

"No," Reed repeats. "Okay. Just thought I'd . . ."

"Fine!" Victor throws his bag down violently. "But Grimm isn't going to like it."

Reed isn't sure for a moment what he's hearing. He isn't sure what happened between Victor's two responses.

"Fine?" Reed asks. Victor looks like he's about to shout again, so Reed says quickly, "Oh, all right, wonderful." He doesn't understand how Victor works at all, but he's been given a chance to try this, and he's going to take it.

*

They spend two weeks kissing in empty labs, sitting together in the dining hall, and not talking to each other. Victor is nearly certain this is the worst mistake he's ever made, unless that was the time he put his hand on Reed's knee at that party.

None of their so-called relationship happens in public, of course. Neither of them is that foolhardy. Even Victor, who would never lie about himself, or try to hide, doesn't like the idea of having his business broadcast.

But he doesn't like being anyone's dirty secret, either. He can't decide which is worse

They're walking through the quad together, Reed wearing a scarf that clashes with his latest unattractive sweater, when he tries to hold Victor's hand.

"Don't," Victor says quickly, shaking Reed's hand off.

Reed looks more relieved than hurt, thankfully. Victor falls out of step with him, not sure what happened and what he's supposed to do about it.

They make it into the science building before he's decided. He can't keep playing this game, which is clearly what it is. Or, no, not a game. An experiment. Victor von Doom is no one's experiment. And besides, Reed is _interesting_. Victor never finds people interesting.

Victor reaches out apologetically and puts his hand on Reed's arm. This time, Reed jerks away. Victor glances at him and follows his gaze to where the professor in charge of the chemistry club is waving at them.

"Just not in front of anyone you respect," Victor mutters. Victor doesn't respect anyone, so maybe he can't talk.

"What?" Reed says, sounding startled and wounded. "Sorry, but I just—Do you _want_ people to find out?"

"Say it," Victor says, loudly enough that everyone in the lobby can hear. "If you can't say it, I'm not doing it." That isn't really the problem. Well, not the entire problem. But Victor is tired of being uncomfortable, and Reed's _made_ it the problem by thinking it is.

Reed glances around at the half-dozen students and one professor who are now watching with varying degrees of curiosity. "Victor," he starts, half laughing.

"Last chance." But the laugh was already Reed's last chance disappearing.

"I can't," Reed says flatly. "I'm sorry, Victor, but—You just can't understand, and I don't know how it is in Latveria—"

"I told you!" Victor almost screams. "I told you, and I tried anyway! I was a fool!"

Reed holds up his hands and looks everywhere but at Victor. "This isn't working, I know, but we can try something else. We can—"

"I'm sorry, I don't fit into your _calculations_ ," Victor hisses.

"Don't pretend you're any better," Reed says evenly. He's still not looking at Victor.

"I am _always_ better. At least I'm not a coward."

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Reed snaps.

"Oh, some genuine emotion," Victor says and lightly as he can. "Tell me, did it hurt much?" He leans in menacingly and hisses, "If you even _think_ about coming into my dorm again, you will _die_."

He turns on his heel and storms out, leaving Reed to feel whatever he feels, or doesn't.

Victor has made too many mistakes. He will not make another.

*

This time, it doesn't take Reed as long to decide he needs to see Victor. He knows they're both angry, although he's not sure where all of Victor's anger is coming from. The data is incomplete, and if Reed just lets this lie, he'll never know what happened. Besides, despite everything, he feels as if there must be something to be gained from Victor's friendship.

Victor's door is shut. Reed sighs sharply and almost turns around and leaves, but he can't stand the idea of Victor going off with entirely the wrong idea. Because Reed _does_ want this to work. He's started it; he's not going to give up so soon. And if he doesn't want people to know, it's only because he's not interested in a whole lot of trouble.

He realizes he's pacing. He should just knock and get it over with.

When he knocks, though, there's no answer.

"Victor?" Reed calls.

When that yields no results either, Reed tries the door. Amazingly, it's unlocked. Victor must have been in a hurry to meet Reed earlier and forgotten. It's a nice thought and it's probably not true.

Reed shrugs and pushes open the door.

Inside, the air feels too hot, and there's a quiet, constant noise in the background like the crackling of electricity. There are no posters on the walls and everything is very tidy, and Reed thinks again that he and Victor would have done well living together.

 _Nearly_ everything is tidy. Victor's desk is awash with graph paper, and with notebooks thrown open to pages scrawled with equations. There's a stack of books on the corner of the desk, and not all of them are science books.

Reed frowns and moves closer, fascinated. In between the equations are scribbled lines from what can only be spells of some kind, judging by the titles of the other books. There's a line of runes that runs vertically down the side of some of the pieces of paper.

This is—it's insane. That's the only word for it. And more importantly, Reed realizes, his frown deepening, some of the math is _wrong._ He picks up one of the notebooks, dislodging several sheets of graph paper covered in crossed-out notes. There's an error in what looks like the most recent copy of the equation Victor is working from, and the implications aren't pretty. Not, of course, that the implications of any of this are.

Reed is so engrossed in noting down the points at which the equations don't come out quite right that he doesn't hear the door open.


End file.
